Birth of Lightning
by secretfanficlover
Summary: This story follows Olympe Maxime as she grows into adulthood, and showing us her affinity for Abraxan horses. School: Durmstrang Year: 4 Theme: [Era] First Wizarding War 1945 – 1990 Prompt[s]: Main: [Creature] Abraxan Horses Additional: [Setting] A known magical school (Beauxbatons Academy), [Weather] Thunderstorm Word Count: 1800 Beta: HecateA & NinjaDevil2000


**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

School: Durmstrang

Year: 4

Theme: [Era] First Wizarding War 1945 – 1990

Prompt[s]: Main: [Creature] Abraxan Horses

Additional: [Setting] A known magical school (Beauxbatons Academy), [Weather] Thunderstorm

Word Count: 1800

Beta: HecateA & NinjaDevil2000

[Note: will not write the French accent. Her wand is unknown, so used my own for reference purposes. *The incorporeal Patronus is not a true Patronus and while it will give limited protection, it cannot provide the defensive power of the corporeal Patronus, which has the form and substance of an animal. Information received from Pottermore.]

Vocab: Éclair is 'lightning.' Thunder is 'Tonnerre.' Storm is 'Tempête.' Thunderstorm more specifically is 'Orage.' 'Rafale' is another cool word for a big and violent gust of wind.

_**Birth of Lightning**_

Olympe had always been an outsider. She was much taller than her classmates, and before she even got chosen to go to the Beauxbatons Academy, she knew she was different. As much as she wished to hide the truth of her father being a giant, everyone could tell she was no pure-blood. It had been a wonderful surprise that she had gotten accepted to the school at all.

Meeting the Abraxan horses for the first time had made her feel like a regular witch, all she wanted was to be _normal_. Her size was nothing in comparison to an Abraxan horse.

She loved that she could climb onto an Abraxan horse the same way any other witch or wizard would ride a regular horse. She saw more than beauty in their strength and size; she saw the soul of a kindred spirit, a creature seeking the same thing she did: acceptance. They were like her; not a witch, not a giant—some of both, but also neither. They were both unique.

Olympe had an affinity for these creatures all her life. She would never admit to anyone how much being different scared her, and these creatures made her feel just like everyone else. They made her feel _normal_.

_Her first encounter with Abraxan horses was during her Care of Magical Creatures class. She had just turned fifteen and she was taller than all her peers, as well as her teachers. "They are so incredibly breathtaking." Her voice echoed over the muttering of her classmate. Her height and build made her easily noticeable by the professor, who chose to call her over to where the Abraxan horse stood, currently the size of a young elephant; he met her at the height of an average foal._

"_He is still young," the professor explained to the class. However, Olympe had tuned out his muttering, walking right up to the foal and stroking his white mane, marvelling at the sight of the blue wings. This was the day she met Tonnerre._

Now, Olympe walked over to the stables; having returned to Beauxbatons Academy after graduation to teach Care of Magical Creatures, and continue her explorations in breeding Abraxan horses. She had her own stables on the school grounds, large enough to keep a small army of these horses. So she decided to start breeding the Abraxan horses for the school. Her relationship with Tonnerre had always been the strongest; no matter how many other Abraxans were bred in the Academy. He was _hers_, as much as any magical creature could ever belong to someone. She and Tonnerre became the best of friends.

_Soon after Voldemort returned to power, the current headmaster left, leaving the school without direction. Olympe knew what she needed to do to save her Alma Mater. Due to lack of volunteers, she stepped up and became the new headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy. She temporarily employed Nicolas Flamel in the Potions position, since the headmaster left an opening for a teacher there. The previous headmaster had a passion for potions, and therefore he had taught in that capacity as well as being in charge of the school. She knew the Alchemist was looking to do something else: working on Alchemy for hundreds of years can sometimes get a bit boring._

"_It's a pleasure, Mr Flamel, you are one of our most famous alumni," Olympe greeted the new professor._

"_The pleasure is mine, I see the school is flourishing under the new leadership," Mr Flamel complemented._

_Olympe blushed at the compliment, such high praise from an Alchemist. The man was pale and washed out; white hair in a bob around his face, his grip was no longer firm as he shook her large hand. She knew he was well over five hundred years old. She didn't feel comfortable asking this man his exact age; she imagined he would feel offended, as she would feel offended if someone commented on her height and build. That had always caused some insecurities with her that she would probably never be able to accept about herself._

"Larger than life, aren't you?" Olympe muttered to herself, filling the troughs with the best single malt whiskey that she could source in France. Her Abraxan horses had become world-renowned, and witches and wizards often came from far and wide to claim one of these beasts for themselves.

"I know you're nervous, Tonnerre," she addressed him kindly.

He whinnied in response.

"I see," she said, watching the clouds as the storm rolled in; it was known that Abraxan horses, magical beings they are, only gave birth during thunderstorms.

Tonnerre's mare, called Miracle, was expecting her first foal, and the long-awaited time had arrived. The stallion was nervous to meet his offspring; Olympe had seen it many times before, but this time was special. The lightning struck in the distance, and Tonnerre went on his back legs and whinnied again.

"Calm down, you're not doing her any favours by panicking," she responded, stroking his mane. "She needs you now." Olympe insisted.

Tonnerre nodded in response, calming down enough to leave and join Miracle's side.

She watched as the lightning seemed to dance across the night sky; and deciding that the foal would be called Éclair. She was told to send word to the castle when the new foal was born, so she readied her wand, one of Willow wood with a Dragon heartstring core, 11 ¾" in length, with a slightly yielding flexibility.

"Expecto Patronum!" she called, sending her Patronus to deliver her message to the strange British man that wanted to learn more about her Abraxan horses.

"_Expecto Patronum!" The sixteen year old Olympe said, focusing all her attention on images of her happiest moments, her first time meeting Tonnerre, them going flying together, all these images flashing through the teens mind. When her Patronus took the corporeal form of an Abraxan horse, her Defense against the Dark Arts professor was so proud of her._

"_Well done, Olympe!" He exclaimed. She was the only one in her class to have a corporeal form on her Patronus; the others barely managed an Incorporeal Patronus, whereas many were unable to produce one at all. She had never felt as at peace as she did when interacting with Abraxans. Her professor had to explain why her Patronus looked different from the others. He explained that while they were also able to produce the charm, their Patronus's were Incorporeal, and hers was Corporeal, which basically meant that her one took the shape of an animal. This, in her case, was an Abraxan horse._

Olympe was curious to meet Tonnerre's first foal; he had taken a mate much later in life than most others; and it was said that late-bloomers often had more powerful offspring. The horses only matured at 100 years of age, and Tonnerre was now at about 300 years old. Miracle was only 150 years old, a large difference in age even for their kind, but that was part of what had caused the curiosity of the British man, as well as many others, herself included.

Olympe was used to thunderstorms by now, and felt no fear as the storm gathered around the school grounds, covering the grounds in what appeared to be the tears of the gods. _Legends say; gods cry every time an Abraxan horse is born_, she said to herself, letting the rain soak her cloak. She then heard Éclair's first whine. The storm ended as he was born; and the overall excitement in the stables died down.

She walked into the stable, finding the mare fussing about her new foal, licking him gently in a habit of animals to clean their new-borns to prevent them being found by predators. It was a curious habit of the Abraxan horses, as they had no placenta to lick from the new-borns, and no natural predators. Olympe's theory was that it was a bonding experience between the new mother and her foal. Full-grown Abraxan horses where roughly the size of an average elephant, at about four meters in height and their infants at one meter in height at time of their birth.

A Magizoologist had arranged to visit her at the academy because he wanted to write about Abraxan's for his book. He had been waiting in the entrance hall of the school when she went back up to fetch him from the castle.

"Mr Scamander, welcome to Beauxbatons Academy," Olympe said kindly.

"Pleasure to meet you, headmistress," Newt Scamander replied. "Your Abraxans are famous."

Olympe and the man walked towards the stables, the sun now shining brightly in the sky, the grounds still wet from the thunderstorm.

"I suppose the thunderstorms keep the grass this green?" Newt said, making small talk as they walked across the grounds.

When the man saw Éclair, he was dumbstruck by the beauty and grace with which they carried themselves. Miracle inspected the intruder carefully; her red eyes peered into his soul, finding him worthy. Then she stepped aside to show off her foal. Her incredible blue wings rested calmly against her palomino coat.

It was clear this man loved these animals as much as she did; he was scribbling furiously in his notebook, making notes on the colour of her wings, her eyes, the size. When Éclair walked over to him and started to nuzzle him like he would his own mother, she recognised the behaviour that bonded her and Tonnerre. It was clear that Éclair had chosen this Mr Scamander and bonded to him. As reluctant she was to let go of Tonnerre's firstborn, Olympe knew that he needed to go with Mr Scamander, and he would take good care of the foal.

It was not as though Éclair needed to stay with Miracle, for he would be fully independent and self-sufficient the moment he was born.

"He is beautiful," Mr Scamander said in awe. He rubbed Éclair's nose and smiled at the animal.

He whinnied.

"He is yours," Olympe said with half-reluctance, half-admiration.

"I couldn't possibly take him, Headmistress," he tried to insist.

"He chose you. Like the wand chooses the wizard, Mr Scamander. It would be cruel for him to be separated from you now."

"How curious," he responded. Olympe nodded, it was not a very popular occurrence for them to actually choose to bond with a human, but because Olympe had experienced it with Tonnerre she knew that this was what had happened.

The Abraxans said goodbye to the young one, and when the man with his magical creatures and in his brown briefcase climbed onto Éclair's back, Miracle and Tonnerre nuzzled each other as their firstborn flew off; carrying the man he had chosen to be his human. Éclair gave his parents one last look, before flying off into the setting sun.


End file.
